Fortune Prevails
by Tesekian
Summary: Sequel to Fortune's Blade and When Fortune Fails. Elessar and Arwen's son is kidnapped. Merry and Pippin are captured as they travel to Minas Tirith. FINISHED! Please read and review.
1. The Capture

Disclaimer: You know I don't own LotR, so I won't bother saying so.  
  
Author's note: I did promise a sequel, so here it is. Again it's a separate story from Fortune's Blade or When Fortune Fails, so you don't need to have read those to understand them. It would probably help though, but, since it'll be a while before Sal shows up, you've got plenty of time to catch up.  
  
Just a note for those who haven't read the other stories. The silver-tree broach is given by the king to someone who does a great service for Gondor. In Fortune's Blade, Elessar gave Sal a sword named fortune.  
  
This story is set about ten years after When Fortune Fails.  
  
***  
  
He was lying over something moving. His legs hung down one side of the thing and his head and arms the other. His wrists and legs were bound. Sounds gradually filtered through the awareness of the boy as he regained consciousness. Voices speaking softly, footsteps, and hoof-beats. He was on a horse. He couldn't see, and it took him a few moments to realise that it was because there was a blindfold over his eyes. As his sense began to awake, he became afraid. Whatever these people wanted with him, it wouldn't be good.  
  
He tried to remember what had happened, how he had got this way. The last thing he could remember was someone grabbing him from behind in his room in Minas Tirith. He had always felt safe at home, and now that illusion was shattered.  
  
A thought occurred to him. If they had been able to take him, had they been able to take his parents? Were Mother and Father in the same situation? Fear began to shake his body, and he gave a small sob before he could hold it back.  
  
"I think our little prince is awake," a sneering voice said. Eldarion, son of Elessar, tried to stop trembling. He was terrified, but he didn't want his captors to see that.  
  
***  
  
"We're lost," Pippin complained for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  
  
"We're not lost," Merry replied, "We're just. . . misplaced."  
  
"Lost," muttered Pippin. Merry glared at him.  
  
"I said we should have stuck to the road," Pippin said, "but you insisted on taking that short cut."  
  
"I didn't expect the fog to come up."  
  
It was getting dark and the two hobbits trudged along. Merry was leading the pony that carried their belongings. Pippin was just moping. If Pippin hadn't been making such a fuss, Merry would probably have had admitted it was his fault by now. But it wasn't entirely his fault, since the fog had taken them both by surprise. It didn't really matter who's fault it was anyway, however it had come about, they were lost.  
  
In the distance there was a slight glow. A fire perhaps, though from the light Merry guessed it was either a very small fire or hidden in a dip. He pointed it out to Pippin.  
  
"Maybe they'll be able to tell us the right direction to go in," he said.  
  
"Be careful," Pippin cautioned, "they may not be friends."  
  
"Nonsense. We're hardly likely to come across a den of thieves with Strider's Rangers patrolling the land. They're probably just travellers like us, and might be glad of the company." Privately, Pippin agreed, but he was annoyed that Merry was refusing to admit the blame for getting them lost, and wasn't going to agree about this. Still, he followed Merry towards the fire.  
  
The fire was indeed lit in a hollow, and people were sitting or walking round it. Pippin was about to descend into the hollow, but Merry grabbed his arm and pulled him to the ground. Pippin began to ask what he was doing, but Merry put his hand over Pippin's mouth, and then pointed at a figure lying close to the fire. It was difficult to see the figure clearly in the dark, but it soon became apparent that it was someone tied up. Apparently they had come across something worse than a den of thieves.  
  
Slowly, the two hobbits began to back away from the edge of the hollow. Unfortunately, it was difficult to explain the need for silence to a pony.  
  
"What was that?" a voice asked from the hollow.  
  
By common consensus, Merry and Pippin began to run. There was no point in trying to keep quiet now. Merry tugged on the pony's lead rope, urging him into a trot. Behind them they could hear shouting and commotion. Pippin glanced back, and saw men with weapons drawn, gaining fast.  
  
Suddenly there was a sharp pain in Pippin's right arm. He cried out and stumbled, an arrow imbedded in his flesh. Merry turned back towards him, running to his side.  
  
"Go!" Pippin yelled, but it was too late. Merry was already at his side and the men had caught them up. Merry drew his sword and stood protectively over his friend. Pippin managed to draw his own sword with his left hand, and got to his feet. The pain was searing through his arm, and his legs felt shaky under his weight, but still he stood there.  
  
They were surrounded by men, armed with bows and swords. The hobbits were caught in a net of steel and wood. It was clear there was no escape, but they were soldiers of Gondor and the Mark, and they weren't going down without a fight.  
  
"Put down your weapons!" a bearded man with a sword ordered.  
  
Merry and Pippin glanced at each other, silently asking if they should. Pippin's arm was agony, and he could feel blood running down from the wound.  
  
"Put down your weapons or die!" the man ordered again. Merry looked at Pippin, and then slowly put down his sword. Pippin's practically fell from his hand as he swayed, suddenly dizzy, and collapsed. Merry dropped by his side, feeling to see if his friend was. He was terrified for Pippin. The wound hadn't looked that serious, so why had he collapsed like this? Fearing poison, he tried to see if he was still breathing.  
  
Hands grabbed him and yanked him away from his friend's side.  
  
"Let me go!" Merry shouted, trying to pull himself free, but even though he was large for a hobbit, he was no match for any of the men. Struggling madly, Merry was carried back to the hollow, the bearded man stooping to pick up Pippin.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: Dumped you right into the action there. I will be keeping up my tradition of evil cliffhangers.  
  
Phoenix Flight, my friend has just asked if you write any stories since you seem to review a lot. 


	2. Prisoners

Author's note: Sal is about thirty-five in this story. And I promise, he will show up at some point, just not for a few chapters.  
  
***  
  
"Who are you?" the tall man demanded. He seemed to be the leader of this group. Merry was sitting on the ground, his wrists tied behind him, the tall man towering over him, the bearded man standing slightly behind him.  
  
"We're just travellers," Merry said, "we didn't mean to interfere."  
  
"Your name?" Merry didn't reply. Frightened as he was by these men, he wasn't going to cooperate that much.  
  
"He's a halfling," the bearded man said, "and he wears the silver tree. How many halflings have been given that? He must be dear to the king." Merry noticed the bearded man's right hand moved slightly, while previously it had been held still. It moved in an almost imperceptible gesture.  
  
"We should kill them," another man said, as soon as the hand fell still again.  
  
"No, Jaren," the bearded man replied, "we can used them."  
  
"They know too much," Jaren protested, "they would be a danger."  
  
"If I am right, then the king would pay a fair ransom for these two."  
  
Merry wasn't in any mood to here these people talk about ransoming him. "We will not cooperate!"  
  
The bearded man bent down close to his face, "Even if your friend's life is the price of your cooperation?" Merry turned and looked at Pippin, who had been dumped on the ground as though he was a thing and not a person. They obviously cared nothing for life, or they wouldn't be doing this. Merry had no reason to doubt that they would hurt Pippin, or worse, if he didn't do what they wanted.  
  
"You'll behave yourself," the bearded man said, "unless you want to watch as we kill your friend. Slowly." Merry knew he had no choice, he wouldn't let them hurt Pippin any more than they had done already.  
  
"I decide what's to be done with them!" the tall man said  
  
"We could double our price," Jaren said, obviously swayed by the bearded man's argument. Merry wished they weren't talking about him as if he weren't there.  
  
"Think about it, Fadell," the bearded man addressed the tall one, "we could ask for a thousand gold coins instead of five hundred."  
  
"Jaren, sort out his arm," Fadell ordered. Merry noticed the bearded man move his hand in a quick gesture again.  
  
"Of course," Jaren replied, moving to Pippin's side. The bearded man seized Merry and carried him over to where the figure they had seen was still lying. The figure was a human boy, who couldn't have been more than ten years old. He was lying with his eyes closed, either asleep or unconscious. Merry wondered what he'd done to make these people want him. There was a metal peg which had been driven into the ground. The bearded man shoved Merry down next to this and tied his wrists to it. He could feel movement behind him and guessed he was doing the same thing to the boy.  
  
The bearded man again bent over Merry. "As long as you behave yourself, you and your friend will be unharmed. I can't promise otherwise."  
  
***  
  
Eldarion regained consciousness slowly, as though rising through murky waters. He became aware that he was sitting, slumped over his legs, his arms tied to something behind him. He must have been out for a long time, as the sun was now high in the sky. They had forced him drink something that must have been a sleeping potion. He shifted slightly, trying to see if the bonds would give, when his hand brushed against something warm.  
  
"Are you alright?" a concerned voice asked. Eldarion turned as well as he was able, to see another person doing the same behind him. He looked like a man, but was a lot smaller than a man. A hobbit! Father had told him about them, but he hadn't met one before.  
  
"I think so," Eldarion replied, "Who are you?"  
  
"Merry Brandybuck." Eldarion was shocked. Father had often talked about the great quest. He had never hoped to meet the hobbit who had helped kill the Nazgul king. Even in such a terrible situation, there was a spark of joy at this meeting.  
  
"Who are you?" Merry asked.  
  
"Eldarion, son of Elessar."  
  
"You're Strider's son?"  
  
"Strider?"  
  
Suddenly a shadow loomed over the two of them, and they looked up to see the bearded man looking down on them. "Keep quiet!" he ordered.  
  
"And if we don't?" Eldarion asked.  
  
"You will hold your tongue, unless you wish us to remove it!" Eldarion shuddered, fear washing over him like a river. "You two are prisoners here. Remember that before you consider disobeying." The man turned and walked away. Eldarion stared down at the ground, wondering what Father was doing. He and Mother must be so worried about him. Would Father come charging to his rescue? Fighting these men as his had fought orcs in the great war?  
  
He clung to that image of hope, even as his hands went numb from the ropes round his wrists and his muscles ached unbearably. Father would come for him. Father would save him.  
  
Suddenly there was a cry from the other side of the camp. He tried to turn and see, but the bonds prevented it. He heard Merry whisper something quietly, in a frightened tone.  
  
"Pippin!"  
  
***  
  
Author's note: I love cliffhangers, bet you never guessed. Please review, or I might leave you with this one for a while. 


	3. The Escape

Author's note: I promise Sal will be showing up soon, probably in the next chapter, but I can't promise anything. I've been known to change the plot of a story three times in one trip to the gym. But I will promise that you'll get a big surprise when he shows up.  
  
Yes I did read all your review, Phoenix Flight. I don't mind babbling, I do it myself quite often.  
  
Saphie, you may understand how Eldarion could be kidnapped from Minas Tirith later on.  
  
Valin, yes I am from the UK.  
  
Anyway on with the story.  
  
***  
  
Pippin slowly came to. He was lying on the ground where he had been abandoned. His muscles were stiff and aching, and his arm painful, but it was bearable. Slowly, his mind sifted through all that had happened.  
  
Lifting his head, he saw that no one was paying him much attention. There were men moving about, and a couple of horses. He was near the edge of the hollow where he and Merry had stumbled across the camp. But where was Merry?  
  
Shifting slightly, he saw Merry, tied with a boy near the centre of the camp. An armed man stood guard over them. Pippin could see no way he could get to them. If he tried, he would be bound as well. Sorrow rose up inside him, but he pushed it aside. The only hope any of them had was if he could get away, find someone who could help. The Rangers patrolled all of Gondor, surely he'd be able to find one.  
  
He waited, until he was sure no one was watching him, and leapt to his feet. He was running the instant he was up, hearing a cry from behind him as he reached the lip of the hollow. He ran, and didn't look back.  
  
The land was too flat. There were a few dips and hollows, like the one he had been in, but nothing that would give him cover. The patches of plants and trees were sparse, and wouldn't hide him. An arrow whizzed past, narrowly missing him, and still he ran. Another struck the ground by his feet.  
  
Pippin was terrified, and his lungs were burning from the pressure of running so hard. His legs were growing tired and he could feel that he was slowing. He wouldn't be able to keep this up, and there wasn't a chance of escape.  
  
***  
  
Merry watched the leader of the band, Fadell, as he ordered his men to seize arms.  
  
"Jaren!" he snarled angrily, "I thought you had him drugged!"  
  
"He should have been out for a few hours more. I gave him just over half the drug I would have given a man. I figured that would keep him out for as long because of his size." Merry watched the man protest, clearly afraid. Merry hoped he'd be hurt for what he'd done. More importantly, he hoped Pippin would reach safety.  
  
"Ganth!" Fadell called to the bearded man, "Make sure he doesn't get away! Do what you have to!" The bearded man nodded, and ran the way Pippin had gone.  
  
***  
  
Pippin saw a patch of rocks, half-covered by grass and weeds. He couldn't keep running like this, and they offered the most protection of anything around him. He scrambled down among them, and breathing heavily, turned a looked back the way he had come.  
  
He couldn't see the camp any more, but there was a bearded man on the grass, heading straight for Pippin. Pippin wished he had his sword, but grabbed a loose rock from the ground. As a weapon it was pretty pathetic, but it was better than nothing.  
  
Pippin waited, afraid, as the man approached. He knew he was hidden, but the man must have seen him come here. He couldn't run any more, and he couldn't fight. Hope seemed to have faded completely, but he gripped his rock, waiting until the man came in sight to throw.  
  
As the man stepped up onto one of the rocks, looking down at where Pippin waited, he was struck in the face by a well-aimed rock. He staggered back, surprised, and hurt. Pippin didn't waste a second. He was scrambling out of the rocks and running again.  
  
Suddenly a hand grabbed his cloak and he fell. He spun over onto his back, looking up at the man who stood over him. The man drew his sword, and Pippin stared trembling at the blade, as the point pressed against the centre of his throat.  
  
"You shouldn't have run, little hobbit."  
  
***  
  
Merry looked up as Ganth returned. Pippin wasn't with him, and Merry allowed himself a moment to hope. He had escaped! He would find someone who could help them!  
  
Then Ganth spoke.  
  
"He won't be talking to anyone about us. He's dead."  
  
***  
  
Author's note: Please don't hurt me. I didn't mean to kill him, it just happened. Honest. 


	4. The Cloaked Attacker

Author's note: iNsAnE oNe, thanks for the review. I'm afraid I can't use your plot ideas because I've got a little, actually quite big, surprise planned. You'll see why in a bit.  
  
***  
  
Elessar was afraid for his son. Three days had passed now since Eldarion had been taken from his chambers in the citadel. The guards had been found dead outside his door. Those who had been on duty at the entrances to the citadel were still being questioned. Elessar didn't care about that though. It didn't matter to him how the kidnappers had got in, all that mattered was that his son was found.  
  
Arwen had taken the news badly. She spent much of her time crying, and when she wasn't crying she was in the nursery with their three-year-old daughter, Elmarith. Elmarith wanted Eldarion, and didn't understand why he never came to see her, or why her mother was so upset. How could they explain about kidnappers to a toddler?  
  
Elessar had increased the guard on the nursery, making sure that his daughter had the best protection, but he couldn't help feeling nervous. He decided that he wouldn't stop feeling nervous until he went over there to check that she was all right. While he knew that he would be alerted if anything happened to her, he also knew that it had failed before. He wouldn't let his daughter be taken as his son had been.  
  
He left the throne room, and entered the corridors that connected the rooms of the citadel. He had to get Eldarion home. He didn't know what he would do if he lost his son, and he was sure the grief would kill Arwen.  
  
As he walked down the corridor, he had a prickling feeling in the back of his neck. He was being watched.  
  
He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, which hung as always by his side. He slowed his face, listening intently, but was unable to hear any footsteps. Perhaps he had only been imagining it. He certainly couldn't see anyone nearby.  
  
Suddenly, someone leapt on him from behind. An arm held Elessar's right arm to his side, preventing him drawing Anduril, another held a blade to his throat. Elessar moved quickly. He brought up his left arm to the arm that held the sword, and tried to pull it away. At the same time, he twisted, his attacker loosening his grip in surprise. Elessar brought his right elbow back into his attacker's face.  
  
His attacker stumbled backwards, and Elessar pulled himself free. He turned, drawing Anduril in a fluid motion, facing his attacker. He was a man, cloaked, and with a hood covering his face. A sword was in the man's hand, and he leapt into the attack.  
  
Elessar brought Anduril round to parry the first blow. He kicked out at the man's leg, but the man spun, dodging the kick almost as if he had been expecting it. Elessar feinted to the left, but the man brought his sword round to parry the actually blow he intended to strike on the right. This man seemed to know exactly what Elessar was planning to do. That meant he had to do something truly unexpected.  
  
He lunged straight at the man's stomach, throwing all his weight against him. Both fell, Elessar landing on top of the attacker, pinning him with his body. The attacker's sword clanged on the stone floor, sliding out of reach. Elessar pressed Anduril against his throat, his free hand yanking down the hood so he could get a look at his attacker.  
  
The man that looked up at him was familiar, despite the years that had passed since they'd last seen each other. Elessar's surprise was greeted by a glint of laughter in the man's eyes.  
  
"Hello, Elessar," he said. Elessar kept the sword in its place, staring down into the eyes of one who had been his friend.  
  
"Hello, Sal."  
  
***  
  
Author's note: Short, I know, but I just had to leave you with that cliffhanger. Review, or Sal will get it. Hey, I've already killed Pippin, you know I could do it. 


	5. Merry's Plan

Author's note: I've decided to punish you for not reviewing. You'll have to wait to find out what happens to Sal.  
  
***  
  
Eldarion's arms were hurting, he could barely feel his hands, and it seemed that a lead weight was over his heart. Merry had been sobbing for a long time, but he was still now. Eldarion didn't know the other hobbit, but if he was the same one Father had talked about, it was a great loss to the world that he was dead.  
  
His thoughts strayed back to his parents. Would he ever see them again? He was afraid how Mother would grieve his death. And he was afraid that Father would not come to rescue him in time. If these people had killed Pippin, they wouldn't be afraid to kill them as well. Where was Father?  
  
After a while, he felt Merry's fingers moving against his wrists. He twisted round to try and see what he was doing. Merry twisted so that they could talk.  
  
"Can you feel the ropes round my wrists?" Merry asked in a whisper.  
  
He tried. "Yes."  
  
"Try to undo the knots. I'll do the same for you." He shifted so that he was in a better position, his figures groping numbly for the knots.  
  
"Stop wriggling!" Both turned to see the man who was standing guard over them.  
  
"You'd be uncomfortable too if you had to sit like this," Eldarion said. He knew it was dangerous to provoke them, but he couldn't let them guess what they were really doing.  
  
"Keep still! Or you'll be more than uncomfortable." Eldarion tried not to move, as his fingers, hidden between the two bodies, worked on the ropes. He could feel Merry doing the same behind him. It was very difficult work as the knots were tight and his fingers were numb.  
  
Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he felt the rope that held his wrists give slightly. After that it was easier for him to work, and soon the ropes that held both prisoners slipped away. The guard was still watching them carefully, so they sat as they were, not wanting to give away the fact that they were now free.  
  
The sun sank towards to horizon agonisingly slowly. Time went passed and another man came to guard them. The men prepared to eat, and Eldarion's stomach growled in envy. He wished they would him something to eat. The men couldn't expect them to be useful hostages if they starved them to death.  
  
Fadell must have been thinking along the same lines. "Jaren," he ordered, "take something to the prisoners!" Jaren did as he was told. Eldarion wondered if he planned to undo their wrists so that they could eat, and was afraid that he would discover what they'd done.  
  
Fortunately, Jaren did no such thing. He broke small pieces of bread from a larger chunk and held them up one at a time for Eldarion to eat. The bread was stale, but Eldarion was hungry enough not to care. When he had finished with the bread, Jaren held a water bottle to his mouth, allowing him only small sips at a time, though he could easily have drunk the contents of the bottle in one gulp.  
  
Once the small meal was finished, Jaren went through the same process with Merry. Not once did he look at the ropes that no longer bound them. Eldarion felt somewhat more hopeful about their chances, if only because now there was something in his stomach.  
  
The sun finally set and the camp prepared for sleep. One man sat beside the two prisoners as always, but their chances were better against one than the whole camp. Eldarion wanted to run as soon as the men had lain down to sleep, but Merry had gripped his arm and whispered at him to stay still.  
  
The stars were gleaming above them and a thin moon gave a little light. The man who had been sitting near them kept yawning. After a while, he stood up, and began to walk around the little camp. It was probably a good job the moon was so thin. By the time the man reached the other side of the camp he was just a dim shadow, barely visible.  
  
Merry was on his feet, and Eldarion was quick to follow. They fled together into the night. Suddenly a cry went up from behind them as their guard noticed, and in a moment there was uproar.  
  
Eldarion made the mistake of looking back. His foot caught on a loose stone and he fell. Merry turned back to help him, and the delay was all the men needed to catch up with them.  
  
Arms grabbed Eldarion and hauled him into the air. He screamed and yelled, until the man who held him put his hand over his mouth. The two were carried back to the camp, and someone shoved a gag in Eldarion's mouth, binding his wrists behind him, even tighter than before.  
  
Merry was struggling against his captors, but they forced a gag in his mouth as well. Eldarion followed his example in trying to pull free, but he was pushed to his knees, and held there by strong hands. He had to watch as Merry stood, his arms pulled behind him by one of the men, as Fadell punched him in the stomach.  
  
Merry jerked forwards, only to be stopped by the arms restraining him. Another blow fell, and then another. Eldarion turned his face away, his eyes screwed up against the vision in front of him. But he couldn't close his eyes to the sound of fist meeting flesh.  
  
When the sound stopped and Eldarion looked back, Merry was lying on the ground, unconscious and bleeding, his body a mass of bruises. Eldarion wept for his friends pain, and for the loss of their hope.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: I could teach Sauron a lesson or two about being evil. Don't worry, I will let you know what's happening with Sal. At some point. 


	6. Inside the Citadel

Author's note: Thank you to Phoenix Flight and Pippin-n-Legolas for reviewing. And to everyone else, this just isn't good enough.  
  
I'm going to see Two Towers tomorrow, and I'm very exited about it. I'll be dressed up as Frodo all day for charity. We've also got Sam, Aragorn, Arwen and random elf. Should be fun.  
  
OK, I'll stop torturing you now and let you find out what's happening to Sal.  
  
***  
  
"It's not a good idea for a convicted traitor to hold a sword to my throat," Elessar said, smiling slightly.  
  
"I was just testing your reflexes," Sal replied.  
  
"I assumed I passed."  
  
"I doubt you'd be crushing me to death if you'd failed. Have you put on weight?" Sal was teasing him as though nothing had happened between them, as though they were still the friends they had been.  
  
Elessar stood up, holding out his hand to Sal. Sal seized it, and Elessar pulled him to his feet. Sal picked up fortune from where it had fallen, checking it carefully before sheathing it again. Elessar watched him. He had thought of Sal often in the years that had passed since their parting. Sal had been a good friend once, and he hadn't been able to forget that, even with what had happened between them. In the man that stood before him, Elessar saw the boy who had wielded fortune so unskilfully against orcs in Mordor, and the young man who had worn his tree broach even as he left the city as an exile. He couldn't hate him.  
  
"It's good to see you again," Elessar said with a slight smile, then the smile faded as the reality of recent events sank in again. "Sal, my son. . ."  
  
"Is alive," Sal finished for him.  
  
"You've seen him?" For a moment hope bloomed. The search parties had found no trace of Eldarion, even the Rangers had been at a loss, but if Sal knew where he was. . . Elessar's smile came straight from his heart.  
  
Sal wasn't able to answer, as a soldier came round the corner.  
  
"Your Majesty?" the soldier began, "I heard fighting." He looked suspiciously at Sal, but Sal kept his face turned away so that the soldier couldn't identify him. He wasn't supposed to be in Minas Tirith after all.  
  
"Thank you, but I am fine," Elessar said, "you may return to your post."  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty." The soldier left, shooting a last, suspicious glance at Sal.  
  
As soon as he was certain the soldier was gone, Elessar turned back to Sal. "You've seen Eldarion?"  
  
"I've seen him," there was sadness in Sal's tone. "He is a prisoner, but he is alive." Elessar sensed there was something Sal wasn't telling him.  
  
"What are you hiding?"  
  
"Merry and Pippin were captured as well. Merry's a prisoner with Eldarion."  
  
"And Pippin?" Sal told him everything that had happened. Elessar listened carefully, waiting patiently for Sal to reach the end of his tale. When he finished there was a silence. Elessar leaned back on the wall, unable to support himself any more. He closed his eyes, thinking about all Sal had told him, and the fate his son would surely face.  
  
"Get my son away from those vermin," Elessar said, opening his eyes and fixing Sal with a steady gaze.  
  
"I swear on my life," Sal said, "Eldarion will return to Minas Tirith alive and well." There was no joking now, no teasing. Sal looked at Elessar with such seriousness that for a moment the king couldn't help believing him.  
  
"You know the consequences if you return without him?"  
  
"That's depends on whether you can catch me or not."  
  
"I seemed to manage fine."  
  
"Ah, this time, but what about the previous ten times?"  
  
"You've been visiting Minas Tirith?" Elessar asked, getting annoyed, "And you didn't come to visit me?"  
  
"I wasn't sure your wife would like it if I came climbing through your windows at night." Sal grinned at him, and turned to leave.  
  
"Fortune be with you," Elessar called.  
  
Sal turned back, smiling. "It always is," he said, smiling, touching the hilt of the sword that hung by his side. He left, pulling up the hood of his cloak to cover his face again. A sensible precaution, since he was charged with death if he was found in Minas Tirith.  
  
Elessar watched his friend leave. Ten years had passed since Sal had left Minas Tirith in exile. Ten years was a long time. How much had those years changed Sal? He was different from the young man who had openly declared his treachery. His face was already beginning to show lines of age, lines he shouldn't be showing yet. No doubt he was worn from living in the wild. Was his heart worn as his body was? Elessar began to walk down the corridor, but not towards the nursery. He needed to think. Sal was his only hope of having Eldarion back, but there were doubts in his heart.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: So Sal is still an exile, but Elessar's trusting him to find Eldarion. Confused? Good. It's nothing to how confused you will be, I've got some surprises in store for this story. 


	7. The Ranger

Author's note: TWO TOWERS WAS BRILLIANT!!!!! Completely different from the book, but still brilliant. I sat on the back row with Sam, Aragorn, Arwen and random elf. Arwen decided half way through she'd be better as Eowyn, so random elf became Arwen.  
  
Sam managed to spill Aragorn and random elf's coke, and I spilt some of the popcorn while helping clear up the spilt coke. It was funny, and we got such a lot of strange looks while walking through town. Can't imagine why. Some guy even insisted on shaking all our hands afterwards, I don't think he'd ever seen anyone so insane, and it is hard to beat us for insanity.  
  
Sam and I were making comments all the way through, and humming along to the 'dum dum da da dum' bits of the theme tune. It was a great film. Though I'm sure you'll find that out for yourselves when you go and see it.  
  
OK, enough babbling, on with the story.  
  
***  
  
Acathon was one of the Rangers ordered to search for the stolen prince. They had all been given specific areas to search, but so far no one had found any sign of Eldarion. Acathon was worried about the young boy. No child should be taken like this just because of who their parents may be.  
  
He was riding slowly along, eyes fixed on the ground, searching for tracks. He gradually became aware of hoof-beats, and raised his eyes to the horizon. Someone was approaching him fast, riding hard.  
  
He halted and reached for his sword, but as the rider came closer, he recognised him. The rider raised a hand in greeting, reining his horse to a halt.  
  
"Don't tell me you're in trouble again, Salafir," Acathon said with a grin.  
  
"No," Sal replied, "though the king is a little annoyed I haven't been to visit him." Acathon laughed. He was never entirely certain of the relationship between Sal and Elessar. After Sal was banished, anyone would think they hated each other, but there were times when one would think they were the greatest of friends.  
  
"Do you bring orders?" Acathon asked.  
  
"Indirectly." Sal held out a letter, which Acathon took, before riding off in a different direction. Puzzling over what he could mean by 'indirectly', Acathon opened the letter and began to read.  
  
***  
  
Merry ached all over. He was lying on his side, his hand tied behind him. The arm that was pinned under his body was agony. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position, only to find he couldn't. His hands were tied to a metal peg as before, only this time his legs were bound together to another peg. There was a gag in his mouth.  
  
He looked around to see Eldarion bound in a similar fashion. The boy seemed unhurt, though he'd obviously been crying. Merry lifted his head, but that small movement caused it to throb painfully.  
  
Jaren had obviously seen even this small movement, as he came over. He crouched beside Merry's head, a cup of something in his hand. He pulled the gag from Merry's mouth and held the cup in front of him.  
  
"Drink," he said. Merry shook his head, keeping his mouth tightly closed. It felt as though there were dwarves mining in his head.  
  
"It contains healing herbs and something to dull the pain. Nothing more." Jaren said. Merry wanted to ask why Jaren cared about his well-being, but that would have meant opening his mouth.  
  
"If I prove it's safe, will you drink?" Merry didn't answer. Jaren sighed, and lifted the cup to his own lips, taking a small sip. He then held the cup close to Merry's face. Merry decided to risk it, seeing that this man could force him to drink if he wanted.  
  
The liquid in the cup tasted sweet, and a little familiar. Most of it spilt on the ground from the awkward angle of his mouth, but what he did swallow began to have effect immediately. The pain that filled his entire body dimmed, and it felt as though his heart was filled with light. He couldn't quite place why it was so familiar, then it hit him as Jaren was standing up.  
  
"Athelas," he said. Jaren looked at him, plainly surprised.  
  
"Yes," he replied.  
  
"Why?" Merry asked.  
  
If Merry had surprised him, his answer surprised Merry more. He crouched down again and spoke quietly. "Because you don't deserve any of this." Then he was gone. Merry wondered if he might have found someone who would help them, then he remembered that it was Jaren who had said they should die when they were first captured.  
  
***  
  
Merry was able to sleep for a while. As he dozed between sleeping and waking, he wondered vaguely if there had been a sleeping drug in that potion Jaren had given him. Perhaps he was just so exhausted by recent events that the pain throughout his body was overcome.  
  
He became slightly more awake as Ganth entered the camp. Merry was too drowsy to wonder where the man had been, and only just awake enough to pay attention to what he said to Fadell.  
  
"I've delivered the message. We will learn soon enough whether the king accepts or not."  
  
"He will accept," Fadell said, "unless he wants his son to enjoy our hospitality for a very long time." 


	8. Acathon's Message

Author's note: Again, thank-you to pippin-n-legolas and Phoenix Flight for reviewing. I want to know why everyone else has stopped.  
  
***  
  
The man who was on watch spotted the Ranger just after dawn. The camp was instantly alert. Merry was woken from his drugged sleep by the commotion as the men rushed around, finding weapons.  
  
The Ranger rode close enough to see the camp, and then turned, riding away fast. He obviously didn't feel up to attacking the entire camp by himself. Jaren ran for the horses, grabbing a bow and riding swiftly after the retreating Ranger. Merry wondered if this man would suffer the same fate as Pippin, and felt sorry for the man.  
  
From his position, lying bound, he couldn't see what happened. The men waiting on the edge of the hollow, with weapons drawn. After a few moments they began to murmur among themselves, and Merry dearly wished to know what was happening.  
  
***  
  
Acathon rode hard until he was certain he was out of sight of the camp, before reining his horse to a halt, patting its neck and waiting for his pursuer to catch up with him. After a few moments, Jaren halted beside him, glancing back to make sure no one had come after him.  
  
"What's happening?" he asked.  
  
"New orders." Acathon gave him the letter to read. Once he finished he handed it back and Acathon tucked it away in a hidden pocket.  
  
"I should be able to manage that," Jaren said.  
  
"So, have you found out anything?"  
  
"They have a spy in the citadel. He let them in through a side door, that was how they got the prince out. I don't know who it is though. I don't think Fadell trusts me completely."  
  
"At least that means you don't look like a traitor," Acathon commented.  
  
Jaren grinned, "I guess it does. I should get back before Fadell gets even more suspicious."  
  
"Farewell," Acathon called to Jaren's retreating form. Acathon then turned and left, having his own preparations to make. Acathon was glad he wasn't in Jaren's place. He had a dangerous task to complete, one almost as dangerous as Sal's.  
  
***  
  
Merry watched Jaren return to the camp. He dismounted and went to Fadell, looking rather worried.  
  
"I shot him, but he kept riding. It's possible he will reach the other Rangers in time to get help. We should leave at once."  
  
"You clumsy fool!" Fadell snapped. He looked as though he was about to hit Jaren, and it seemed Jaren expected it too. Then he changed his mind. "Get the prisoners! Keep them bound, and keep them separated, but they need to be able to walk!" Jaren went over to Merry, releasing his legs. He then bent close to Merry's head as he undid the rope that held his bound wrists to the metal peg.  
  
"Strider sends his greetings," he murmured. Merry was amazed. How could Jaren know Strider? And how would he get the message?  
  
He was wondering this as he was hauled roughly to his feet. He almost collapsed again, his legs felt weak from the tight ropes and the beating he had sustained. Fortunately, Jaren grabbed hold of him before he fell, and supported him for a few moments while he struggled to stand.  
  
Jaren stood guard over him, while Ganth dealt with Eldarion. The rest of the men packed up the camp and loaded the horses with packs. It didn't take long for everyone to be ready, and Fadell led the group out of the hollow. Jaren stayed behind Merry, ready to catch him if he stumbled. He whole body still hurt and the sleeping drug hadn't worn off completely. Besides, it was very difficult to keep his balance with his wrists tied behind him.  
  
Eldarion was walking several paces in front of Merry. He was having a worse time, despite his lack of injuries, as the man guarding him was less kind than Jaren. When the man turned round to check on Merry, Merry saw that he wasn't Ganth. He couldn't see Ganth anywhere. Merry wondered vaguely where he was, then he tripped over again, and decided to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.  
  
The long walk continued into the night, by which time Merry was exhausted and his legs were aching painfully. He was so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He fell, and this time Jaren wasn't able to catch him.  
  
"Fadell!" Merry heard Jaren call.  
  
"If he can't walk, carry him!" Merry felt Jaren pick him up, and then fell asleep in his arms.  
  
***  
  
Halastir was on duty at the gates of Minas Tirith. There were quite a few people coming into the city, as there was a market on. Farmers and tradesmen from the lands around had arrived either the previous night or early this morning. Now people were filtering through the gates to buy, or leaving the city again with their produce.  
  
They were supposed to check everyone who came into the city, but on a day like this it was impossible. They just kept an eye out for anyone who looked suspicious. For example, a man wearing a cloak with a hood covering his face, despite the warm sun.  
  
"You there," the other guard on duty, Marend, called. He'd spotted the cloaked man too.  
  
The man tried to slip through quickly, a clear sign that he had something to hide, but Halastir grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. Marend joined him quickly.  
  
"Who are you?" Halastir demanded. When the man didn't answer, Marend pulled the hood of the cloak down. Halastir recognised the man beneath. He hadn't been in the city for ten years, and with good reason.  
  
"Salafir," Halastir said. "Why did you come back here?" Salafir didn't reply, but tried to pull his arm from Halastir's grip. By now quite a few people were watching them interested.  
  
"You're charged with death if you returned here," Marend said.  
  
Halastir called for the errand boy to run and fetch some more guards from the citadel, since they couldn't leave the gate unguarded. It wasn't long before they came, and Halastir and Marend led Salafir in chains through the gates into the city, leaving the new guards on duty at the gate.  
  
Salafir came along surprisingly quietly for a traitor, and the crowd began to disperse, sensing that the entertainment was over. A smaller figure was able to pass through the gates in the midst of the crowd, unnoticed. He waited until he was out of sight of the gate, and ran towards the citadel.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: Keep reviewing please, and I'll let you know who the mysterious figure is, and where Ganth's disappeared to, and why Sal's returned to Minas Tirith, and why Elessar exiled him, and why. . . To summarise, please review. 


	9. The Exile's Return

Author's note: Thanks to pippin-n-legolas for your review. I'm constantly writing, so naturally I get chapters up quickly. Cass, thank you for reviewing. I'm always glad to get new fans.  
  
***  
  
Sal doubled over as a fist contacted with his stomach again. He focused on his breathing while the pain flared and then died down. In and out, in and out, in and out. Slowly the pain dulled, and he was able to straighten, only to have another blow strike his stomach. In and out, in and out. Another blow fell, and Sal kept his thoughts calm and tried to see past the pain in his stomach. As long as he provided no entertainment, the pain would be over more quickly.  
  
"You shouldn't have come back here, traitor," Halastir said, finally getting bored of this beating. Sal remained silent. He dearly wished to say that he hadn't betrayed Elessar, but he knew he couldn't. Halastir wouldn't believe him anyway.  
  
Another guard came into the cell were Sal was standing, chained. This guard was quite a few years younger than them and Sal didn't recognise him. He must have joined sometime after Sal's exile.  
  
"The king doesn't wish to be disturbed," the guard said.  
  
"Very well," Halastir replied, "I know how to deal with traitors who break their exile."  
  
***  
  
Elessar was talking to Acathon in the throne room of Minas Tirith. Acathon had arrived about an hour before, and he was telling the king the news he brought about his son. Elessar listened, considering Sal's plan and the news Jaren had passed on. It seemed to best chance Eldarion had, hopeless though it was.  
  
"I am ready to give the order to the Rangers," Acathon said.  
  
Before Elessar could reply, there was a timid knock on the door and one of the guards entered.  
  
"I gave orders not to be disturbed!" Elessar snapped. He had been rather short tempered of late, understandably so. He especially didn't want to be disturbed when his son's fate could hang in the balance of his decision.  
  
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," the guard said, "but he said it was important. I would not have interrupted but for the fact he bears the tree broach."  
  
"Send him in!" Elessar's first thought was that it was Sal, coming with urgent news of his son, and fear gripped his heart. However it was not Sal who hurried in, but a rather flustered looking hobbit.  
  
"Pippin?" Elessar said, "What's wrong?" Pippin began to talk in a garbled and hurried fashion. Something about Sal, and traitors, and killing. "Pippin, slow down. I can't understand if you babble like this. "  
  
"Sal was bringing me to the city, but they caught him at the gate," Pippin said, "I think they mean to kill him." Elessar cursed under his breath, getting instantly to his feet. Sal had come into the city many times before without being spotted! Why did he have to choose now to get caught?  
  
He realised when he reached the cells that neither Pippin nor Acathon were with him, and hoped that Acathon had taken Pippin somewhere to give him some food. The hobbit certainly looked as though he needed it, but right now he had more important things to worry about.  
  
***  
  
Sal's arms were chained above him to the ceiling. There was nothing he could do, no way he could defend himself, as Halastir drew a sword and held the point to his throat.  
  
"Any last words, traitor?" Halastir asked. There were plenty of things Sal wanted to say, but nothing he could. So he shook his head. Better to die silently than begging for mercy, if die he must.  
  
'Forgive me, my king,' he thought, closing his eyes and waiting for the blow to fall. He had faced death before, but this time it was different. Dying in battle wasn't the same as being executed. To die this way seemed wrong. It seemed a failure after all that he had been through.  
  
Suddenly he heard the sound of the door being flung open and a voice demanded, "What's going on here?" Sal opened his eyes and saw Elessar. His expression was filled with anger. Not a wild rage, but a cold, calculating anger, like hard steel. Sal was very glad indeed that he wasn't the one on the receiving end of that anger. It was bad enough to watch it.  
  
"Your Majesty," Halastir began, "I was told you weren't to be disturbed."  
  
"So you decided to carry out an execution without my consent?"  
  
"He is charged with death. You gave the sentence yourself."  
  
"Salafir returned here on my instructions. If you had sent me word, as was your duty, we would have avoided this."  
  
"He didn't say he had your permission." Sal could see Halastir was desperately trying to find a way out of this situation.  
  
"Because he wasn't supposed to. Go now, and speak of this to no one." Halastir and the younger guard both left. Before the door closed, Sal caught a glimpse of Marend looking at him strangely, clearly having overheard the conversation. Hopefully he would take the order to be silent as meant for him as well.  
  
Elessar waited until the door was shut before walking over to Sal and releasing his hands. Sal rubbed his wrists gratefully, watching as the anger on Elessar's face faded into annoyance. Sal had no doubt that he was the target of that annoyance, but it was a lot better than anger. Elessar stared at him with the gaze Sal had come to dread, the one that seemed to reach inside his heart. Sal always felt so exposed when he stood in front of the king.  
  
"You didn't give me any instructions to return," Sal said at last.  
  
"No," Elessar admitted.  
  
"So you just lied to your soldiers?"  
  
"Technically, I didn't lie. I ordered you to rescue my son, and you must have come here believing it would help you achieve that. Therefore, you were following my orders." Though Elessar spoke seriously, Sal couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing.  
  
"What's so funny?" Elessar demanded.  
  
"You." Sal said, as soon as he managed to stop laughing, "You haven't changed a bit."  
  
"Neither have you. Why is it you always end up in my cells?"  
  
"It's the view." Sal gestured at the bare walls. Elessar stared at him, trying to suppress a smile. Sal counted silently, and just as he reached three, Elessar gave up trying and let himself laugh. Suddenly Sal found himself enveloped in a hug, and hugged his friend back.  
  
"I've missed you," Elessar admitted, releasing Sal from the hug.  
  
"You've only got yourself to blame," Sal said, "you didn't have to exile me."  
  
"And how would I have coped with Ralisay if I didn't punish you?"  
  
Sal grinned again. "I can think of some ways."  
  
"Ones that involve sharp blades, I'd wager."  
  
"Naturally."  
  
"Now, Sal, I can't go around killing my advisors. Though it is tempting at times." Elessar smiled, but then his face became more serious, and Sal knew he'd soon have to explain why he'd come back.  
  
"What news do you bring of my son?" Elessar asked. Sal sat down on the floor of the cell. There was no point in being more uncomfortable than necessary during his long tale.  
  
***  
  
Merry awoke to find himself tied again. He wondered what had woken him, then he realised the man on watch must have given a call. Fadell ran up to him. The camp stirred and found weapons. Jaren came and stood over where Merry and Eldarion were tied.  
  
The new camp was very different from the old. It was in rocky ground, with a steep scree slope on one side. Merry guessed they were on a hill, and there was a similar slope down on the other side. The men were waiting with weapons aimed down the slope. It wasn't long before Merry saw the thing they were aiming at.  
  
A man, dressed in the uniform of Gondor, came to the edge of the camp. Merry wondered if he was looking for them, but Fadell waved his hand for the men to lower their weapons.  
  
"What are you doing here, Marend?" Fadell demanded of the newcomer. "I gave you orders to remain in Minas Tirith."  
  
"My news was too urgent for it to wait. It seems the traitor has betrayed us."  
  
Merry didn't think anyone else heard what Jaren murmured on hearing those words, but he heard and was afraid.  
  
"Sal," Jaren whispered.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: Yep, Pippin's alive. I may consider explaining how, if you'll consider reviewing. That seem fair?  
  
The plot is certainly getting thicker, isn't it? Everyone seems to be swapping sides like there's no tomorrow. I may get everyone sorted into the good and evil categories before the end of the story, but the rate it's going I may not. 


	10. The Ranger in the Camp

Author's note: As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you're all happy that Pippin's alive  
  
***  
  
Jaren was cleaning one of the many cuts on Merry's face, but his mind was elsewhere. He was trying to think of a way in which he could warn Sal, let him know what was happening. He couldn't think of anything that wouldn't ruin the whole plan. He couldn't do that. It didn't matter that Sal was his friend, a Ranger had a duty to the king and to Gondor. If Jaren abandoned his orders for Sal's sake then both Eldarion and Merry would almost certainly die.  
  
"You don't approve, do you?" Jaren looked up at the quiet voice. Athruw, one of their band, had come upon him without him realising. He shouldn't have let his guard down. A Ranger was supposed to be alert at all times. Still, no harm had come of this.  
  
"No," Jaren replied quietly.  
  
"Why don't you just leave?" Jaren wondered whether Athruw was asking honestly, or if Fadell was trying to find out how loyal he was. Jaren wouldn't put it past the thief.  
  
"And have Fadell kill me?" Jaren asked.  
  
Athruw leaned in closer, over Merry's sleeping form. "I don't like this either," he said, "if the two of us go together we can get out. The traitor's already told the king about us. If we go now we can get away before they come." Jaren was still worried this might be a trick of Fadell's to catch him off guard.  
  
"I said I would help in this. Whatever else I may have become, I am still a man of my word. We'll get our money, and I'll be able to start a new life for myself away from Fadell. Away from kidnapping and thieving."  
  
"And these two will have to suffer for it?"  
  
"The king will pay, and these two will go home safely. In the end, we'll all get what we want."  
  
"Unless we get caught." Jaren didn't say anything to that. He wondered whether this man might be sincere in his disapproval of Fadell's methods. It was possible that he really was looking for a way out.  
  
"How did you end up with this group?" Jaren asked.  
  
"My home burned down in a fire, my wife still inside. She and I had been arguing that evening and I went out for a walk to clear my head. I returned late, to find only ashes. Everyone assumed I'd started the fire and refused to give me work. I wandered, but people distrust strangers, and I couldn't get work anywhere else either. I took to stealing food just to stay alive, until Fadell's gang came across me. At first I thought working with Fadell would just be more of the same, stealing to live. By the time I realised differently it was too late to back out." Jaren listened to the poor man's sad tale. It had probably never occurred to him to go to Minas Tirith and seek the help of the king. Jaren had no doubt that Aragorn would have helped him, but it was too late now.  
  
"What about you?" Athruw asked. Jaren suspected he was being honest in his story of his origins, but that wasn't enough for Jaren to trust him with the truth.  
  
"A similar enough story," Jaren said, "though without the wife."  
  
"You won't tell Fadell what I told you?" Athruw asked.  
  
"No," Jaren replied, "but I will not help you either. Let us both hope we get our gold, so we can be free of him." Athruw walked away, and Jaren returned his attention to Merry, only to find the sleeping hobbit wasn't as asleep as he had thought. Merry was looking up at him with pain-filled, sorrowful eyes.  
  
"Please help us," he whispered. Jaren glanced quickly around to make sure not even Athruw was close enough to overhear.  
  
"I give my word as a Ranger, both you and the prince will return home alive and well." Merry looked slightly surprised, but then he smiled.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
***  
  
Sal rode away from Minas Tirith towards the nearby hills that rose up into the mountains behind the city. He had left his horse outside the city with one of the Rangers, as a horse inside the city would have attracted too much attention. He was confident now that Pippin was safe, and that there was a good chance of ensuring the safety of Eldarion and Merry. All the plans were made, all that remained to them now was to carry them out.  
  
He rode hard for several hours, the hidden path becoming steeper and rockier, until he came close to the place where the camp was made. He dismounted, and led the horse up the difficult slope, loose stones slipping away from under his feet. Both he and the horse stumbled as they walked.  
  
The shelf of rock on which the camp was made was hidden from below, and it looked as though the slope just continued for miles. It was chosen partly for that reason, so that the group could hide, and partly because no one could sneak up on the camp because of the rocks. Even the best Rangers would have difficulty walking up here unheard. Even an Elf would struggle. But Sal knew the camp was there and eventually reached it.  
  
He looked around, taking in the position of the men. Jaren was beside Merry and Eldarion, for which Sal was glad. Jaren would be looking after them. But there was worry on Jaren's face, and Sal saw his hand flick in the gesture of danger. Sal didn't have time to worry what the danger might be, when something hit him behind his legs, causing him to fall to his knees.  
  
"What's going on?" he demanded, but he had a feeling he knew. Around him the men of their company were drawing weapons and Fadell came and stood in front of him, a bow in his hands with an arrow on the string.  
  
"We've found out what you're planning," Fadell said. A man stepped up to him, one wearing the uniform of Gondor, and Sal recognised him as Marend. "You're planning to win back the king's favour by helping his son now."  
  
"I knew there was something going on when I saw you in Minas Tirith," Marend said, "but I never guessed until the king said so that you'd come back because of him. You'd sell us all out for the man who banished you?" Sal was glad he only guessed that much. It wouldn't do for them to find out the whole truth while there was still a chance they would escape.  
  
"I don't like people who betray me, Salafir," Fadell said. Sal glanced over at the prisoners. From the expression of shock on Merry's face, he hadn't recognised him. It was hardly surprising, since almost sixteen years had passed since their last meeting, and Sal had changed a lot from that frightened boy whom Merry had befriended.  
  
"I don't like you either, but sometimes we have to work with those we dislike," Sal replied, keeping his tone cheerful and calm. His hand moved quickly at his side, gesturing at Jaren to continue as planned. To take care of the prisoners. He saw Jaren give a small nod and knew his orders would be carried out.  
  
It was amazing how in those moments Sal's senses seemed more acute than ever before. His eyes picked up a small movement and his ears the sliding of stone over stone. Probably some mountain animal on the scree slope. It felt as though he could hear the breathing of every man around him separately, as he sought with all his Ranger training to find some way of escaping.  
  
He looked across at Jaren, and saw the sadness in his friend's eyes. His hands were already resting on his bow, but Sal shook his head almost imperceptibly. It wouldn't do for them to throw away the mission because of him. Duty came before self, both for the king's guards and his Rangers. For one who was both, duty was too important to risk. He had a duty to Elessar, to Eldarion, and to Merry. He wouldn't risk any of them for the hopeless sake of his own life.  
  
Sal looked back into Fadell's eyes. It was better to die here at the hand of his enemy than to die in Minas Tirith at the hand of his friend. Fortune hung by his side, and he could go down fighting even if there was no chance of success. He would die a warrior's death.  
  
In one swift movement, he was on his feet, fortune in his hand. He charged towards Fadell in one desperate assault, just as an arrow was fired, its target perfect.  
  
***  
  
Author's note: So, Jaren's a Ranger, Athruw wants to betray Fadell, Sal has betrayed Fadell, and now he's just been shot. I love cliffhangers. Review, and I'll consider being nice to my poor characters and letting them have a happy ending. If not, I'll kill them all. Mwa ha ha ha.  
  
If you don't believe that I'd do it, go and read the author's note in Fortune's Blade chapter three. 


	11. The Ranger's Attack

Author's note: Yet again, thank you to everyone who reviewed. Well done, Phoenix Flight for spotting the loophole. Don't worry, everyone's loyalties will be sorted out soon.  
  
***  
  
Salafir? Merry stared open-mouthed at the man on his knees in front of Fadell. How could he be Sal? The man was Ganth, the person who had been so cruel to them since their capture. The man who had killed Pippin. Ganth and Sal couldn't be the same person.  
  
Then he remembered it had been Ganth who had insisted they be kept alive. And there had been no witnesses to his murder of Pip. Merry suddenly began to hope that his friend at least had made it out of this alive.  
  
"I don't like you either," Gan. . . Sal said. His voice had lost that cruel edge, and it did sound similar to the voice of that boy who had come to their rescue in Mordor. Merry noticed Sal's hand was moving at his side, the way it had done when he and Pippin had first been captured. Jaren nodded, and Merry guessed the movements were some sort of signal.  
  
So Sal had a plan. Merry was glad. Much as he'd wanted Ganth dead only a few hours before, he wanted him alive now. Sal had been his friend, and it seemed now that he had been working to help them even when they had been his prisoners.  
  
Merry pulled against the ropes, desperately trying to free himself to help Sal. But it was useless. The ropes were as tight as they had always been. Merry looked across at Eldarion, but the boy just looked confused. He clearly didn't know who Sal was, didn't understand that their greatest hope of rescue was about to be killed.  
  
What happened next was a blur of motion Merry couldn't follow. Sal leapt to his feet, drawing his sword. Merry could see the symbols on the hilt and knew for sure that this was Sal. Merry yelled a warning as Fadell prepared to fire, but Sal had no defence against an arrow.  
  
Suddenly an arrow flew from the rocks above the camp, embedding itself in Fadell's back. Merry tried to see where the arrow had come from, but whoever had fired was well hidden. More arrows flew into the camp, though these were aimed to injure the men rather than kill them. Sal was fighting, and men seemed to come from nowhere and join him.  
  
Jaren ran to Eldarion and quickly cut the ropes on his wrists and ankles. Then Merry felt someone behind him gripping his wrists. He began to call for Jaren.  
  
"It's alright, Merry," the man said. Merry tried to twist round to look at him. It was Sal. Sal cut the ropes and in a few moments both Merry and Eldarion were free.  
  
"Let's leave the Rangers to their business," Sal said. He didn't wait for Merry to get up, but just lifted him off the ground and carried him over to his horse. Jaren was doing the same with Eldarion. Merry looked back at the camp as they rode away, and was pleased to see that the Rangers appeared to be winning the fight.  
  
They rode down the slope away from the camp, Merry in front of Sal, Eldarion in front of Jaren. Merry hoped the Rangers would deal harshly with that gang of kidnappers.  
  
"What happened to Pippin?" Merry asked after they had been riding a few minutes.  
  
"He's safe in Minas Tirith," Sal replied.  
  
"Who are you?" Eldarion asked.  
  
"My name is Salafir. I was one of your father's personal guards for several years, but now I am an exile."  
  
"It's complicated." Merry took the hint that he didn't want to talk about it. Unfortunately, Eldarion didn't.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"It just is." Eldarion was plainly unsatisfied by that answer.  
  
"Are we going home now?" Eldarion asked after a while.  
  
"Yes," Sal replied, "you're going home."  
  
***  
  
Eldarion had fallen asleep by the time they reached the gates of Minas Tirith. Sal halted, and Merry wondered what was going on. Why didn't they just go in? His puzzlement increased as Sal dismounted, and Jaren shook Eldarion awake.  
  
"This is where I leave you," Sal said, handing his reins to Jaren.  
  
"Why?" Eldarion asked.  
  
"Because I am an exile. I'm charged with death if I enter Minas Tirith."  
  
"But you saved me," Eldarion protested, "Father will forgive you. I'll tell him what happened and I'm sure he'll let you come back." Merry silently thought he was right. Sal had been given the silver tree after all. But Sal shook his head.  
  
"It's better that you go in without me," he said. Merry frowned, watching the expression on Sal's face. There seemed to be a glint of laughter in his eyes, and Merry had the feeling he was planning something.  
  
"Goodbye, Sal," Merry said.  
  
"Goodbye, Merry. Farewell, young prince." Sal gripped Jaren's hand.  
  
"Try and stay out of trouble until we next meet," Jaren said.  
  
"And you." With that Jaren urged his horse into a walk, leading the one Merry rode, since the horse was too large for Merry to ride safely. As they went through the gates the guards were delighted to see Eldarion. There was uproar as people recognised the boy, and soon there was a cheering throng around the gates. Merry glanced back, but Sal was nowhere to be seen.  
  
***  
  
Elessar could hear shouts in the city and went to the gates of the citadel and looked out. Two horses rode up the street, bearing three people. The shadow that had rested over his heart vanished as he recognised his son.  
  
"Eldarion!" he cried, lifting the boy from the horse almost before it stopped, holding him tightly as though he was afraid to let him go. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmured into the boy's ear. Eldarion in turn had his arms around his father and was crying with relief into his shoulder.  
  
Elessar finally released his son from the embrace, but kept his hand on his shoulder. The contact reminded him that it was real. His son was safe! The nightmare was over! Smiling through tears, he hugged Merry as well, but this hug didn't last nearly as long as the first.  
  
"Thank you," he said to Jaren.  
  
"A pleasure," the Ranger replied.  
  
"Merry!" Pippin suddenly ran out of the citadel and flung his arms round Merry. The two hobbits laughed and cried and hugged, while Elessar stood by, his arm around his son. It was as though the sun had burst through the clouds and the world was full of light after days of shadow.  
  
Elessar led them back into the citadel, into a small room where they could talk. Merry and Eldarion took turns telling the story, with Jaren adding details as appropriate. When they reached the end of their tale, Eldarion turned his pleading eyes on his father.  
  
"Please will you let Salafir come back into the city. He saved my life. Please, Father. Please."  
  
"I don't think he'd do anything to hurt you," Merry added.  
  
Eldarion managed to keep up the begging and pleading for about five minutes without break. Eventually, he ran out of steam and protested, "You're not even listening to me."  
  
"I am listening," Elessar said, "you're just not giving me a chance to respond."  
  
"Will you?" Eldarion asked.  
  
"I will have to consider it. Now, I'm sure you and Merry are tired and hungry. Jaren, will you see to it they get to their rooms and have something warm sent up."  
  
"Yes, Your Majesty," Jaren replied. He herded them out.  
  
"You're hiding something," Pippin said. Elessar was rather surprised. "And how do you plan on getting out of telling me? I don't need to be carried off to bed."  
  
"You will leave," Elessar replied, "because otherwise I will tell my guards to drag you to your room and lock you in." He was smiling as he said it, so Pippin would know he wasn't too serious. But Pippin took the hint and left.  
  
"Not exactly subtle," a voice stated once he was gone.  
  
"There is a time and a place for subtlety," Elessar said, turning towards Sal who was leaning casually on the doorframe. Without waiting for an invitation, Sal walked over and sat down.  
  
"You realise you lied to my son," Elessar said.  
  
"Technically, I didn't lie," Sal mimicked Elessar's tone, "I told him I was an exile and that it was better if they went in without me."  
  
"And you complained when I was rather economical with the truth," Elessar laughed.  
  
"I crept in during the commotion of the prince's arrival. He was very brave while he was a prisoner," Sal said, "you should be proud of him."  
  
"I am. But right now we have other things to discuss. Your exile for one. Eldarion wants me to let you back into the city."  
  
"And what do you want?"  
  
"I think what you want is more important in this case. Do you want to come home?"  
  
***  
  
Author's note: A fairly stupid question, you might think, but read on. There are still some more surprises to come. 


	12. An Exile's Choice

Author's note: Merry Christmas! And to everyone who isn't a Christian, happy whatever holiday you have next.  
  
The first section is a flashback.  
  
***  
  
"I never betrayed you," Sal said as he finished. There was a silence, Elessar staring into his eyes again. Sal had the uneasy feeling that even his soul was being searched by that gaze.  
  
"I never betrayed you," he repeated, waiting fearfully for the king's reply.  
  
"I know." It took Sal a few moments to fully comprehend what Elessar had just said.  
  
"You. . . you do?"  
  
"After our years of friendship, why should I doubt you now?" Sal grinned. Dignity and position set aside, he ran to Elessar and flung his arms round him. He was just a friend, glad that Elessar was safe. Glad their friendship was safe.  
  
When Sal stepped back, Elessar's face was grim. "I have a suggestion for you, Salafir," he said, "but I do not think you will like it."  
  
***  
  
Eldarion was woken by sunlight striking his face as someone pulled open the curtains. As he opened his eyes to the view of his bedroom in Minas Tirith he wondered if the past few days had been some horrible dream. Then the person at his windows came over to the side of his bed.  
  
"Salafir?"  
  
"Your father insisted I come to say goodbye."  
  
"Why goodbye?"  
  
"I'm leaving the city today, as an exile still."  
  
"But why? You saved my life."  
  
"Yes. I saved your life because I'm an exile. Fadell trusted me enough to let me in on his plan because I'm a proven traitor. That was how I got the information I needed for the Ranger's to lay their ambush. Jaren did all he could but I had the advantage we needed. If I hadn't been an exile, you would be a prisoner still." Eldarion guessed he understood, but he didn't see how that had any relevance. The kidnapping was over, so Salafir should be allowed to come back.  
  
"For the past ten years," Sal continued, "I have been working secretly to find out all I could about plots against your father. Those involved in plots would trust me, because everyone knows I tried to kill the king." Eldarion nodded.  
  
"I never betrayed your father, and he never believed that I did. The thing was, everyone else did. He came up with this plan. I would be exiled, but he would tell the Rangers the truth. While there are members of the tower guard who can't be trusted, your father trusts his Rangers completely. We let people believe I was a traitor so that I could work to defend Gondor in a way no one else could." Eldarion understood, but he didn't think it was fair on Sal.  
  
"But people think you've done something wrong and you haven't."  
  
"I don't mind that," Sal said, "because this way I can help people more than I ever could if I stayed in the city. Besides, I come home occasionally to visit my family, so it's not so bad."  
  
"Will you visit me?"  
  
"Of course. In fact, I think your father will rather insist on it. I don't mind sneaking into the city, and I've come to like my life as a Ranger. Your father and I had a long discussion last night, and we decided it would be best if I carried on working the way I am rather than having my exile removed. Now I should go, I need to see Merry and Pippin before I leave and I don't want to get caught in the city." He turned to leave, but Eldarion seized him in a hug before he had the chance. After all he was doing for them it was the least he could give.  
  
***  
  
The Rangers brought the kidnappers to Minas Tirith for judgement. Two had died in the fight, including Fadell. The others were to be tried by the king. Athruw waited while the other members of their group were led in one at a time. It was somehow worse that he was last. He would rather have gone in first, and learned what his fate was to be all the sooner.  
  
At least the boy was safe. It made things slightly better that Eldarion was back safely in Minas Tirith. What had happened to him wasn't right. Athruw couldn't condone Fadell's actions. As he waited, Athruw clung to the fact that at least justice was being done, and that helped keep him from despair.  
  
Finally, he was led before the king, and fell to his knees before him. He felt numb with fear, without hope. His death was but a few words away, and he knew it.  
  
"You are charged with kidnapping and treason," the king said, "how do you plead?"  
  
"Guilty," he said. There was no sense denying it.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I was afraid of Fadell. He would have killed any of us if he even suspected we were going to act against him."  
  
"So you hurt an innocent to protect yourself?" The king's tone was fierce and terrible.  
  
"Yes," Athruw muttered. "But if I had acted, I would have died and the prince would still have been a prisoner." It was a feeble argument, but he had to try something. "I never thought that Fadell would do something like this when I joined him. When I did find out, it was too late."  
  
"It's never too late." Athruw rather thought it was. Surely it was too late for him now. The king stared at him, and Athruw trembled. He would die for sure, and he could give to arguments against it.  
  
"I don't want to die," he said.  
  
"I doubt my son wanted to be kidnapped."  
  
Athruw waited, knowing that his sentence would come soon. At least he would be with his wife again. He wouldn't be alone any more.  
  
"You are not to die," the king said, as though reading his mind. "Your punishment will be to help those who have suffered. You will help rebuild what accidents destroy, provide food and shelter to those who have lost their belongings. You will help others who have suffered like you suffered, so they will not have to resort to the crimes you committed." Athruw was amazed. How could he know all this? How could he know what had happened to him?  
  
Then Jaren stepped out of the shadows, and smiled at him.  
  
"I asked the king to be merciful with you," Jaren said, "I told him what you told me." It all made sense now. The way Jaren had acted, the things he had done. He had been working for the king.  
  
"Thank you," Athruw said, not sure which of the pair he was thanking.  
  
***  
  
Rain was falling in a steady drizzle, so no one paid much attention to the five cloaked figures who stood by the gates of Minas Tirith. Three men and two hobbits were saying goodbye.  
  
"Take care of him," Elessar told Jaren.  
  
"I can take care of myself," Sal protested.  
  
"If that's true, how is it that an old man like myself can best you?" They were smiling, but there was sadness behind their eyes as they prepared to be parted again.  
  
"If you're ever in the Shire, make sure you visit," Merry said.  
  
"I will."  
  
Sal hugged first Merry and Pippin, then Elessar.  
  
"Farewell, my friend," Elessar said.  
  
"Farewell."  
  
Before Jaren and Sal could go, Elessar held something out to Jaren. It was something small, wrapped in a dark cloth. "Don't unwrapped it here," Elessar told him.  
  
With a few last words of farewell, the two Rangers walked out of the gates. They walked a short way before Jaren looked at what the king had given him. He removed the cloth, and in his hand lay a silver broach, shaped like a tree.  
  
"You earned it," Sal said.  
  
THE END  
  
Author's note: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed at any point. I love you all!  
  
There may or may not be a sequel. I haven't decided yet. I hope you see now why Elessar banished Sal, it wasn't because he didn't trust him. 


End file.
